"Oh, you know how fond I am of roses; I always was! Do you recollect," added she, "my poor little rose-tree? I have preserved the pieces of it so carefully!"
At this terrible allusion, Rodolph cried:
"Unhappy child! Is it possible that, in the midst of all the splendour that surrounds you, you think of the past? Alas! I hoped my tenderness had made you forget it."
"Forgive me, dear father; I did not mean what I said. I grieve you."
"I grieve, my child, because I know how painful it is for you thus to ponder over the past."
"Dear father, it is the first time since I have been here."
"The first time you have mentioned it, but not the first time you have thought of it; I have for a long time noticed your sadness, and was unable to account for it. My position was so delicate, though I never told you anything, I thought of you constantly. When I contracted my marriage, I thought it would increase your happiness. I did not venture to hope you would quite forget the past; but I hoped that, cherished and supported by the amiable woman whom I had chosen for my wife, you would look upon the past as amply atoned for by your sufferings. No matter what faults you had committed, they have been a thousand times expiated by the good you have done since you have been here."
"Father!"
"Oh, let me tell you all, since a providential chance has brought about this conversation I at once desired and dreaded! I would, to secure your happiness, have sacrificed my affection for Madame d'Harville and my friendship for Murphy, had I thought they recalled the past to you."
"Oh, their presence, when they know what I was, and yet love me so tenderly, seems a proof of pardon and oblivion to me! I should have been miserable if for my sake you had renounced Madame d'Harville's hand."